Old Pine
by BL00DofTheViNE
Summary: Harry is struggling to cope with the aftermath of Lord Voldemort's defeat - leaving him feeling empty and without purpose. Ginny tries in vain to reconnect with him and it falls to her to reach out not only to Harry but to her brother George as they separately deal with the trauma of what they have been through and what they have lost.
1. 1 Salt in our Wounds

Salt in our Wounds

The darkness… The depression. It was everywhere. Everyone had expected him to be fine. Happy, even. Elated! He had defeated the Dark Lord, the man who caused so much pain and heartache for hundreds of people over the decades. Lord Voldemort, finally vanquished, had left Harry to get on with his life at last.

The only problem was that now that Voldemort was no more, he had no life to speak of. Harry felt empty inside; existing with no purpose and no relevance.

In the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, there was much to be done. The school needed to be repaired and restored to its former glory. As stones were magically laid and eventually paintings hung, Hogwarts slowly began to return to normal. But Harry, his soul – nothing could repair him, magically or otherwise.

It had been three months since the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Ron and Hermione had given him the space and time he so obviously needed to heal. Ginny had been less patient. She wanted to comfort him, to cry with him, to laugh with him again, but he would not let her. Tired of being shut out, feeling bitter and sad and rejected, she threw herself into reading, preparing for her final year of school, determined to distract herself until Harry came to her again. She was beginning to fear he never would.

As Harry's eighteenth birthday approached, he was mildly surprised to receive a letter inviting him back to Hogwarts to complete his seventh year. At first it seemed laughable – that education was still a thing to consider, after all he and his friends had been through. But the more he thought about it, the more he started to accept that life must eventually go on, and he had a career – a future – to think about. He knew he was lucky to have had that possibility at all. After confirming with Ron and Hermione that they too would be returning to Hogwarts, Harry decided it was the logical course of action.

Some nights Harry lay awake in bed wondering what to make of the new, unknown opportunity of a future, after he had prepared himself to die. He sometimes wished he had.

He thought of Ginny. He had almost left her alone in the world, with family and friends but no one to hold her or kiss her or stroke her fiery hair. He had no doubt that she would move on, eventually, and find someone new to fill his place. She was not weak. She would not let his loss ruin her life.

As he mulled it over – that he had _almost _left her alone, it dawned on him that there was no almost about it. He had not died but he had done it.

He had considered going back to her many times. To try rekindle the flame that burned between them. He couldn't bring himself to succumb to the urge to wrap himself around her again. She deserved so much more than what he could give her now. He wasn't Harry anymore. He was just a shadow, an ugly ghost with dead eyes and a dead heart. He _had_ died that day in May.

The halls of Grimmauld Place were alive with the memories of a few summers before, when Sirius had skulked them. Harry had returned there after the Battle of Hogwarts, expecting the visit to be brief, as the weight of the memories crushed him. He had never left. Something about the dark walls and grey spirit of the house made him feel like it was okay to be sad. The ghost of Sirius – not literally of course, as there was none – haunted him as he walked around corners or sat alone in the red-and-gold bedecked bedroom. He too had been sad and lonely. It was a while before Harry realised he himself was lonely.

Ron and Hermione dropped in occasionally, both separately and together, to check on him or bring him food as he was too distracted to remember to feed himself. The press hadn't gotten hold of his location, despite their great efforts, and he remained isolated from the rest of the wizarding world. He declined invitations to the Burrow, to Ginny's dismay, more to avoid the concerned and pitying eyes of the rest of the Weasley family than anything else. It was only when George wrote to him in late August that Harry felt that maybe it was time to come of hiding, if only for a brief spell.

_I lost my other half, Harry. I am empty inside,_ the letter had said, echoing Harry's feelings. _I know I still have my mum and dad, I know I have Ginny and my brothers, I know I should feel grateful and lucky and I should get past this. But I can't. There is nothing left for me. I am so empty. No one understands… I don't know why I'm writing to you… Maybe I hope you understand._

Harry simply replied, _I understand_.

After more than three months of exile, of some sick and tense equilibrium between numbness and shattering sadness, Harry knew it was finally time to come out. He wasn't sure if he was ready, but he _was_ sure that if he spent one more day shut up, physically and emotionally, he might lose the possibility of ever opening up again – forever. And so, on the first of September, Harry Potter left for London, for King's Cross Station, where the horror had happened in his mind, to return to Hogwarts for one more year of magical schooling, which would hopefully bring with it a new sense of purpose, and light up just a bit of his dark world.


	2. Pressure the Hinges

Pressure the Hinges

In the last compartment of the Hogwarts Express, Harry found Ron and Hermione. They were holding hands. Strangely, they broke apart when the saw Harry standing in the doorway. He greeted them and sat down next to the window. The train rumbled as it started to move, slowly at first, gathering speed as the station grew distant, soon to be replaced by fields of green.

Several silent minutes had passed when Hermione finally broke it, asking gently how Harry was.

Harry took a deep breath. "I… I think I'm alright, Hermione" he replied, attempting a smile. She grinned back. A few more seconds of silence passed. "How was your week with your parents?" he asked her. She had spent the first month after the Battle grieving, as Harry had, before returning to her parents' house and restoring their memories. At that stage Hermione had still not told them about what had happened in the wizarding world regarding Voldemort.

One week before term commenced, she had come to see Harry alone and informed him that she would be revealing the truth to them.

"It went well, I suppose. Mum was livid… She couldn't believe I'd concealed the truth from her and placed myself in so much danger without her knowledge" Hermione told him. Ron appeared to have already heard the story. He was looking down at his hands, now folded in his lap. "Dad just went really quiet. After a while he asked me for details. And I told him" she continued.

"Did you tell them you wiped their memories?" Harry asked.

"Goodness, no! They would never trust me again. They are already quite suspicious of magic as it is. I didn't want to leave on a bad note"

"Do you plan to? Tell them, I mean"

"I doubt that very much, Harry" Hermione said, her voice faltering slightly. She lost herself in thought for a moment.

Harry stared out of the window. It was a little bit overcast outside, but occasionally the sunshine would penetrate the white sky. It felt odd to be on the train, in such a familiar setting with his closest friends, feeling closer to them than he had in a long time, and yet so very far away.

Ron's quietness was unsettling to Harry, but he did not wish to start a conversation, for fear of the topic of Ginny arising. He burned to know where she was, who she was with, what she was doing. He wanted to see her face – see her smile – but couldn't bear the thought of seeing all the hurt reflected in her eyes. Hurt that he had caused.

The silence eventually settled into a comfortable one as Harry allowed himself to feel, as he put it, alright for a while, in the company of his best friends. It was only broken now and again with some light conversation.

The trio changed into their robes as the sky darkened, and the train rolled to a stop at Hogsmeade Station. Suddenly Harry felt as if he was suffocating. With the castle looming not too far in the distance and the familiar sound of Hagrid's voice calling out to the first years, he felt as if he might implode. His senses ignited. The image of Hogwarts burning flashed before his eyes, the sound of screaming and the smell of singed hair filling his ears and nostrils. And just as suddenly as it came it had gone away. Voices of excited eleven year olds permeated the air as they fumbled towards Hagrid's hulking form.

Harry moved towards him, catching his eye as he waved the first-years towards the boats with his dinner plate sized hands. When they reached each other, they stared at one another for a moment before Harry embraced the gigantic man, his oldest magical acquaintance and friend.

"It's so good ter see yer, 'Arry" he breathed.

Harry remained silent, drawing some comfort from Hagrid's warmth, before making his way to the carriages. The thestrals pulled them up to the castle. Harry noticed for the first time that he, Ron and Hermione were not the only people from his year that had returned to Hogwarts. There were at least four others that had not attended school during the year when Voldemort was at the height of his reign.

At the feast, Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table. He watched the tiny, frightened first years as they were sorted into one of the four houses and listened half-heartedly to Professor McGonagall's welcome speech. He picked at the food, hungry enough to sample some of his favourite pudding, but not hungry enough to finish anything on his plate. He had lost a lot of weight over the summer, despite having so little excess to spare to begin with. Nearly Headless Nick as well as a few of his old classmates greeted him as they walked past on their way to their dormitories.

Harry lingered behind a little, not wishing to be caught by anyone wanting to know details of his role in the Battle. Ron headed up ahead of him and Hermione, who stayed with Harry as he toyed with a piece of pudding that remained on his plate, despite the table having cleared of food.

They headed up to Gryffindor tower together. It was in the common room that Harry caught his first glimpse of Ginny. He had a sneaking suspicion that she had skipped the feast altogether, as he hadn't seen her at the table. He'd been keeping an eye out for her surreptitiously.

Her back was turned to him and so she didn't see him walk quietly up to the boys' staircase and disappear. Hermione refrained from calling out goodnight, sensing that he did not want to draw attention to himself.

The dormitory felt odd without Neville, who had spent part of his seventh year hiding in the Room of Requirement but had still graduated, and Dean, who had elected not to return. Harry had been hunting for Horcruxes. Aside from Harry and Ron, it was only Seamus who remained of the original group, who had been in the same position as Neville. Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or not that there didn't seem to be other students taking the empty beds.

"Hiya Harry" Seamus greeted.

"Hey" he replied with a lazy gesture of his hand. "Er… Good summer?" he regretted the words the second they left his lips. Seamus stared at Harry.

Harry was too tired from his first day out of his self-imposed exile to unpack his trunk, and simply fell into bed with his shoes and glasses still on. He drew the curtains around his four-poster with a flick of his wand. Ron grunted from beyond.

x

It was just had it had always been. Stares and whispers followed Harry everywhere he went. Conversations suddenly ceased as he drew nearer and resumed as he walked away. He made no effort to engage in conversation with anyone other than Hermione. Ron had mentioned something about Quidditch at breakfast on their first day of term, breaking his silence for the first time.

Harry wasn't sure yet if he wanted to play Quidditch this year. He had been Captain of the Gryffindor team in his sixth year. The letter he'd received mentioned nothing about it. He supposed he'd wait and see.

His first class was Transfiguration. He took a seat between Ron and Hermione and had just taken out his textbook (which he'd ordered by mail along with all his other books and equipment, not wanting to venture to Diagon Alley) when he noticed that Ginny was sitting just two rows in front of him. It hasn't occurred to him that they would be sharing classes, although it made sense when he realised they were both in seventh year now.

He tried to put her out of his mind as Professor McGonagall welcomed them before launching straight into teaching them some of the most advanced spellwork he had ever encountered. He found that it had been easier not to think about her when he was holed up in Grimmauld Place, in his place of sadness. Here, at Hogwarts, she would be much harder to avoid, both physically and mentally.

The class resulted in a series of minor injuries as they were doing human Transfiguration, attempting to transform themselves into chairs. Harry managed to make his lap into a cushioned seat. Hermione had done the same but with her arms turning into arms of a soft armchair. Ron had only managed to turn one of his legs into a wooden stand.

Ginny had gotten rid of her legs altogether and appeared to be a torso sticking out the bottom of a pink recliner. Seamus had only managed to give his skin a tartan pattern.

After Professor McGonagall turned them all back into themselves, they left the class. Harry was about to drop his book, giving him an excuse to duck under the table to avoid running into Ginny, but was spared the necessity as she sped out of the class before he'd managed to pack a single thing away.

x

Many of Harry's classes passed in much the same manner; the students learned increasingly advanced spells or were taught complex concepts as Harry tried to avoid Ginny as much as possible. The latter turned out not to be difficult… Ginny was avoiding him with equal vigour.

Before coming back to Hogwarts, he had imagined and played out various scenarios in his head in which he had found himself alone with Ginny. All began awkwardly. Most of them ended with some sort of feeble apology from Harry, with Ginny reacting in a multitude of manners ranging from sadness to anger to jubilation. In some, they would even reconcile and things would be alright between them. Sometimes they were friends, sometimes they were lovers, and sometimes they were enemies.

It had not once occurred to Harry that he would not find himself anything close to alone with her for the first several weeks of term, and it didn't occur to him that at all times, not just sometimes, they were strangers.


	3. Not Exactly Voices

Not Exactly Voices

_Help me, Harry. Please,_ George wrote. _I'm not myself. I don't know who to be._

How? Harry wondered. If only he knew. He wasn't himself either, and he too had lost his identity that early morning in May. He was only just beginning to feign normalcy again as his environment became familiar once more and he fell into a routine. Everything was falling into place. He was required to pay attention in class, do his homework, and work hard at understanding and keeping up with his education. He got up every morning, ate breakfast with Ron and Hermione, he attended class, he skipped lunch, electing to spend it in his dormitory or in the library, never venturing out to the grounds. The weather had not yet turned completely sour but Harry couldn't find it in himself to go into the sun. He ate dinner early, before the Great Hall grew full, and returned to his dormitory, passing though the Common Room without a sideways glance.

The first Quidditch match of the season was looming, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and Harry realised that his old team had gone on without him. Ginny was captain of the team, playing Chaser, and a new seeker had been appointed. He hadn't attended trials, although he had seen the notice on the board. He didn't even consider it. Hermione urged him to try out, confident he would be given his old position, but attending would have meant facing Ginny. Hermione thought it would be good for him to get on a broomstick again, even though he no longer owned one. He had lost his Firebolt on the night of Seven Potters and hadn't bought a new one.

Without the distraction of Quidditch, which part of Harry missed desperately, he had more time in the evenings to focus on his schoolwork. Part of Harry never wanted to mount a broom again, knowing it would only remind him of simpler times. The thought made Harry smile sadly. Simpler times… There was no such thing. If anything, his life had gotten infinitely simpler since his flying days. On a broomstick, he had been horribly injured, more than once. He had faced a Hungarian Horntail. He had flown away from Privet Drive to the home of his Godfather. In spite of this these thoughts, he wished for flying and Quidditch to remain pure, a wholesome memory for him to reminisce about fondly but distantly.

The night of Halloween, Hermione decided to head to the feast with Ginny, leaving Harry and Ron alone together. Harry badly wanted to say something, but the silence between them had turned from a minor gap into a gaping chasm, and he had no idea what to say. Where would he begin? Sorry for breaking your sister's heart? I wish you and I could go back, but we both know we never can? I miss you? I miss you terribly? All of it was true.

Harry opened his mouth to say something – even as he inhaled he wasn't sure what was going to come out of his mouth, but Ron interrupted.

"Don't. Just… don't"

"Ron, I-"

"I said don't, Harry. I don't know what you want to say but-"

"How could you? You can't be bothered to listen"

Silence. Long, awkward, tense silence.

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what I want to say either" Harry said. He was frustrated with Ron but even more so with himself. "I guess I just want to talk again"

"Well, it's something" Ron replied. He kind of smiled.

Harry's face split into a grin for the first time in ages. The pair went to the feast together.

Ron took a seat beside Hermione, across from Ginny, but Harry, still feeling emotionally overloaded from his almost-conversation with Ron, couldn't face her yet, so he took a seat several seats down. No one sat next to him. He kind of wanted to floor to open up and swallow him.

Just as he was contemplating getting up and leaving again, a voice whispered to him, "You can sit with us if you want". He looked over his shoulder to the Ravenclaw table where a group of three girls were giggling, sitting slightly apart from the rest of their house. He wasn't sure which one of them had spoken.

"Er…"

"It's a feast, the teachers won't mind a little inter-house merry-making" the same voice said suggestively, cocking her head to the empty seat beside her. It was the blonde girl.

Harry briefly considered it. His gaze travelled to Ginny who was chatting idly to Hermione. He could not hear what they were discussing. He glanced down at his empty plate. He had not eaten a thing yet.

"Um… I've already eaten. Thanks though" he said as he got up to leave. He scurried out of the Great Hall, unaware of the many eyes that followed him out.

He strode across the entrance hall, contemplating visiting Hagrid, whom he hadn't seen at the teacher's table. Once again his courage failed him and he climbed the marble staircase, heading for Gryffindor tower, again unaware that he was being followed.

As he reached the seventh floor, he heard the same voice from earlier call out "Hey!" softly. He spun on his heel. The girl trotted towards him, stopping about a metre away from him. "Hey" she said again.

"Hey" Harry responded tentatively.

"Look… Harry… I know you don't know me – I'm Gina by the way, Ravenclaw – but-" she drew in a deep breath, "I've been wanting to meet you"

"Er… Why?" he asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

The girl laughed as she looked down, her hair cascading over her shoulder, "Just" she stated simply. "So hi" she suddenly seemed shy.

"Hi" Harry raised his eyebrows.

There was an awkward silence. Harry thought dully that he'd had enough of those for one day.

"Well, bye" she said, smiling, and walked off, not waiting for a reply.

Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady's portrait, feeling as though he might see more of this strange girl, even if he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Harry dreamt of Ginny that night, popping up around corners as he walked around in circles around the school. "Hey" she called out to him. "Hey" again. "HEY!" she shouted. She was crying. Her eyes were bleeding. "_Sectumsempra!_" she slashed her wand like a dagger as blood spurted from Harry's chest. Harry caught his intestines and cradled them in his hands. Suddenly the bloody bundle of blood in his arms turned to a baby. Harry pulled it closer to him, wanting to protect it, but as he looked at it he realised it was the sick, reptilian form he had seen at the white King's Cross Station in his mind, the shard of Voldemort's soul. Harry dropped the bundle. As it hit the ground, it transformed to a dismembered head, golden blonde curls cascading around it. The head bounced almost comically and rolled to a stop, Ginny's dead eyes staring coldly back at him.

Harry woke with a start, covered in sweat. The dorm was quiet. Too quiet. Harry sat up and pulled the hangings of his four-poster open but was met with darkness. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he saw that Ron's hangings were closed. He listened carefully. He could hear breathing, but not the slow, steady breathing of a person deep in sleep and Harry knew that Ron was awake.

Deciding that even though they had been kind of speaking again for not even a full twenty four hours, their friendship was strong enough that he could talk to Ron in the middle of the night. Before Voldemort's fall, Harry would never have done it, wanting to appear strong and in control, but things were different now. "Ron" Harry whispered loudly.

"Ron!" he whispered again. Ron's hangings opened a fraction.

"Yeah?" Ron replied in a loud whisper.

"Erm… Nothing" Harry said defeated. His friendship might have been strong enough, but he wasn't yet.

"Harry?" Ron called softly.

"Yeah?"

"Who is Gina?"

Harry froze. He was quite sure that if he had spoken in his sleep, he would have said Ginny. It didn't help that the names were so similar. "I don't know" Harry replied, laying back down again. "Goodnight Ron"

Ron closed his hangings again.

x

Harry found that overnight, his life had become even more stressful. He was now not only avoiding Ginny, but Gina too, although that too proved to be easier than expected. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws only shared a few classes and it was easy enough to miss her at Breakfast and dinner by going early. That was his new strategy for killing two birds with one stone.

x

_Find a distraction. Focus on work. Do something. Do anything. Maybe yourself will return,_ Harry wrote. He knew George wouldn't believe that last part any more than he did. He scratched it out untidily. _Maybe… Maybe you'll stop remembering, even if just for a moment at a time, who you were, and maybe you won't feel so guilty about not being yourself anymore. _Harry thought his words sounded insubstantial, but he didn't know what else to say; what George needed to hear. _Maybe you don't have to be you._


End file.
